


Bullet

by orphan_account



Series: The Robbie Repositry [2]
Category: James Bond (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Angst, Cherik - Freeform, Follow up to The Edge, Gay Sex, If you've seen Spectre you know what happens at the end..., M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 05:48:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6106924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Max had made it clear that he never wanted to see his ex-boyfriend ever again. The heartbreak and the pain he felt at even the passing mention of his Danny, his Q, made his heart lurch and his stomach ache. He was desperate to get over him but the second he came walking back into his life, his morals had taken a diversion and he found his life on the line. </p>
<p>[Based on Bullet by Robbie Williams]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_"Then you straddled me, like a bridge going somewhere good_  
_And I looked in your eyes and I was like, oh my word.  
This is how I fell in love."_

I became head of MI5’s security department 4 days after my 36th birthday, marking 15 years (and four days) since I had my heart torn out and thrown to the ground all by him. After our strong, three year loving relationship he decided to leave me on my 21st birthday, leaving me erratic and broken. I dropped out of university with only a few months to go and moved to the other side of London. He made me uproot and change everything and honestly, I hated it. I hated him for breaking my heart and for leaving me so low for so many years. It was the belief that we were happy and in love that was the worst. He gave no reasons, just left me. Abandoned me in the middle of a club at my own party. To say I got absolutely fucked that night was all too true.

But now I was working for MI5 – their head of security and practically the big boss. It was clear no one really liked me but that hadn't changed since the end of Sixth Form. My friends had helped me to create my new security system that would remove the need for the 00 programme, one of the factors that didn't help the company’s fondness of me. But I had a job to do and it was going to be done. Unconditionally because if something went even the slightest bit wrong, my life would be taken from me by my real bosses. By Spectre.

“Mr Denbigh?” There was a knock at my door and I looked up from my laptop. “We have our quartermaster here to see you, sir.” I nodded slowly and smiled, taking off my glasses and running my hands over my face. I knew that tonight called for a good rest because I was exhausted. I slipped off my ring and placed it in one of the draws beneath my desk. I then put my glasses back on and looked up to see M entering, then looking back down at my laptop.

“Come in, have a seat.” I said, replying to yet another grovelling email from 009. “Sorry, give- “

“Max?” My blood ran cold upon hearing the familiar voice. I looked up at Q who was sat in front of me, looking as wonderful as ever. “You were the last person I was expecting to see.” He laughed softly and smiled briefly but stopped when he saw I wasn't smiling back. What was he smiling for? He had to reason to. Even if he thought that what he did was wrong, there was no chance of him ever stepping back into my life. He’d left me, just like Charles and Erik had. “Seems you put your talents to good use, then.” I could tell he was only trying to make the situation better and less awkward, something he was seriously struggling at.

“Good evening, Q.” I said and he raised his eyebrows, almost as if he was surprised I had lost my deep Irish accent. Of course I still had it but I was masking it as best as I could. “Here are the plans I've got for how my department and yours will interlink for the foreseeable future. I doubt you’ll see me much, instead one of my employees. But if there are any ever questions, my email and number are on my card in the file. Is that all?” I handed him the brown envelope and he looked at me in astonishment, like he had expected me to talk to him and for us to reflect on the past or what not. “Is that all, Q?” I asked again and he nodded, standing and picking up his file, holding it close to his chest. He still wore the silver band I’d gotten him for his 20th  birthday on his index finger. I swallowed and stood, leaning to shake his hand.

“Just…” He sighed and reluctantly shook my hand. “Stick to your morals, if you have any.” I laughed at his comment and then gave him a harsh glare. He looked down and then left, M still waiting by the door for him. I sat down and let out a heavy breath, then turning back to my computer.

…

I was awake early the next morning to travel to Tokyo for the Nine Eyes conference. It was essential that I received support from the countries in order to make the JIS program work and for me to stay alive. Spectre had made it clear that I had to win the re-election otherwise I would be killed. That was clearly not the ideal. M was coming with me and had dragged along Q who was avoiding me at all costs. He was trailing behind M like a lost puppy and frankly, it was pathetic. 

M chose to let Q and I sit next to each other on the private plane and took up the one single seat so he could space himself out and gaily tap away at his phone, talking to either one of his many lovers or to someone else high up in MI5. Q and I sat facing each other, only our laptops between us.

Q sat typing on his keyboard, trying to save the world once again. He'd look up at me occasionally and frown, his lips pressed together. Once more, I could tell he was contemplating talking to me but continued to oppose his decision. “I got an invite.” I said after a long and awkward half an hour. “To Erik and Charles’ wedding.” I said and he looked up at me and took out his ear bud. "But I haven't seen them since you left." It hurt to bring the past back up.

Q looked at me like he had just seen a ghost. “Oh.” He said slowly and then nodded hesitantly. “Well, I don't know if it was a ploy by them to reunite us or what, but I'm Charles’ best man. It made no real sense because I haven't seen him in a year or so. I guess they felt they had to after how close we were as kids. Something like that.” He swallowed and looked back at his computer. It was clear he was now avoiding him. Perhaps our friends’ wedding wasn't the best of topics, especially as it could have been ours one day.

I knew I had to stop thinking about that. About weddings and what we have. Had. I had to forget about him. I just had to, as simple as that.

We remained in silence for the remainder of the flight. I wasted time emailing clients and Erik, questioning him on if it still wasn't possible for me to only attend the party in he evening. I was hoping to stay away from Q as much as possible. But I felt I had to ask if he wanted me to take him up to Aberdeen for the wedding. After all, two men who practically live next door to each other shouldn’t have to go separately to each other. Even if he was my ex-lover. So I sat in contemplation for the next five hours until we touched down in a private airport on the outskirts of Tokyo ready for the conference.

…

“Good afternoon, sirs.” The maître d said, coming over to us once we’d reached our hotel. I headed inside and allowed the bellboy to bring up my bags. I went to the main desk, sunglasses still perched on the edge of my nose and hair swept back, slightly messier than normal. I tuned back to look at Q and Mallory who were entering behind me, talking to each other in hushed voices and glancing over at me occasionally. “Mr Mallory, there has been some problems with our system today and it seems we’ve double booked. We have two king size rooms available. We’re so sorry, sir.” I rolled my eyes and looked at Q who was stood hugging his laptop to his chest.

“Who’s going to have the courtesy to share with me then, eh?” I asked, leaning against the counter and looking at the two men, then taking of my sunglasses and tucking them into the V of my shirt. I looked between the two men who were looking at each other nervously. “I’m not intending on going out on the lash so I won’t need a spare spot in my bed.” I rested my elbows on the desk beside me and leant back.

“Alright then.” I raised my eyebrows at Q’s reply and then grinned. “I’ll share with you I guess.” He stepped forward slowly and smiled at me. He reached to shake my hand and I firmly shook it, our matching silver bands clinking together as we did so.

We properly smiled at each other for the first time in fifteen years.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Things had gotten off to a rocky start between us. Most of the first hour had been spent in silence, neither of us knowing what to say to each other. We’d unpacked and I laid on the bed whilst Q sat by the window on his computer. I stood slowly and went over to him, sitting in the chair beside his and admiring Tokyo. It was a beautiful city full of beautiful minds. Minds that would soon be changed thanks to me. Thanks to Spectre. There probably was not one person currently walking past the hotel that I didn't have a file for. They wouldn't know that because that was the point in Japan’s system. The people knew nothing.

Q put his laptop down and looked over at me, then heading for the mini bar and getting out a bottle of water. “Want anything?” He asked and I stood, going over and looking into the fridge. “We could have a drink or something?” He looked up at me and smiled awkwardly. “Here, his champagne looks good.” He was just trying to be kind. Whether he was guilty for dumping me without reason or what, he felt the need to make it up to me. Presumably his old technique of drink until we’re out of our minds and then fuck somewhere utterly inappropriate. That was something I wouldn't mind but I could see he’d changed. Long gone were the days of tank tops and too short shorts, instead he was in jeans and cardigans. Whilst it was cute, it wasn't Q. Not my Q anyway.

He poured us flutes of champagne and we sat out on the balcony, looking down at the traffic a hundred meters below. It was calming and in some ways nice, but he was still there, his breath feathering the hairs on my neck occasionally. I then turned to look at him and sighed, looking him and down slowly. Fifteen years on and all I could do was admire him in all his beauty. He smelt fresh, like Tom Ford aftershave and peppermint, and his hair was messy and thick, like always. I still remembered holding his hair as he went down on me, his mouth enveloping me as we laid sweaty and in love.

But those times were gone now. I had to forget them and so did the bulge in my trousers.

I finished my first glass and then went back inside, pouring another and lounging around the living area for a while, running my fingers over the thin cashmere sheets on the bed, and then returning to the balcony where Q was patiently stood waiting for me.

I produced a box of cigarettes from my pocket and offered him one. He nodded hesitantly and I placed two cigarettes into my mouth, lighting them both and then passing one of him. “You don't smoke anymore. But you are now, for me.” He nodded and took in a puff, then looking down at the traffic below us.

“How did you know I don't smoke any more?” He asked, looking up at me through his thick eyelashes. “Surely it isn’t that easy to tell?” It was simple. His fingernails were clean and teeth untarnished. It was probably to match up to his newly created persona of being all smiles and happiness.

“Because of who you are now. All clean cut and innocent even though you’re not.” He looked at me and blew a thick plume of smoke into my face. He grinned and slowly shook his head. “Because that’s what you are, a liar. And if you wanted to… You’d become the old you again, wouldn’t you?” He shook his head and put his cigarette back between his lips. “You’d have me on my knees. You know you already would.” He laughed and finished his flute. I followed him inside and refilled our glasses, turning to see him lounging on the bed with his cigarette between his lips and nimble fingers unbuttoning his cardigan, shrugging it off.

“You read people like a book, don’t you? Whilst Charles can read your mind, you can read emotions. That’s the best trait to have by far.” He hummed, throwing his cardigan to the floor and laying down, taking his cigarette between his fingers and blowing out a cloud of white smoke. I laid beside him and passed him a flute which was quickly downed by the both of us. I stripped off my jacket and tie, throwing them to the floor and then loosening my tie. “Oh, Max darling. Just…” He leant over and pulled me close, my tie wrapped around his hand so he could hold me in place. “Just stop teasing, would you.” He leant in to brush our lips together and then pulled away, his hand still holding my tie firmly in place. “Refill, go on.” He said, leaning and giving my ass a quick squeeze. I leant over to get the bottle of champagne and began to drink from the bottle, letting the alcohol warm my stomach. Q yanked the bottle from me and finished it quickly. “Come on. Let’s get hammered.”  
  
Once again, he was back to his old tricks. But all I really wanted was him. I wanted us to wake up sweaty and naked, holding each other like we were the only people left in the world. I still thought about him whilst getting off, the memories of him pinning me to the bed and making me beg sending electric sparks around my blood. Even in that situation I could think of nothing but the memories of the past. I wanted him back. I wanted to hold him and love him and god, I wanted to fuck him. I wanted him to fuck me, more than anything.

“You haven’t changed at all, have you?” Q asked, turning onto his side to look into my eyes. “You’re as horny as ever, as desperate to straddle me as always. It’s funny. Well, it’s funnier because I feel the same about you.” He reached his fingers up and ran them under my chin, his lip bitten. “What I’d do to fuck you again.” I know I had promised myself never again but in that moment, nothing seemed wrong. He was all gentle touches and dirty words, so innocent on the inside but filthy deep within. “C’mon, Max… Let’s just do it. Let’s just fuck and get rid of all this pointless tension between us.” He was leaning in to kiss me, his lips almost touching his.

I couldn't do this. I couldn't break his heart like he broke mine.

But he deserved it.

So I kissed him.

 

Back came the sparks and the sense of warmth and security deep in my gut. I belonged to him, he kept me safe and sane.

We were both stripping now, eager to finally do what we had waited so long to do again. We laid there in our briefs, kissing and feeling each other, groaning and begging, and whimpering. His fingers were running over my chest, the connection between the smoothness of the pads of his fingers against the near-invisible and highly sensitive hairs that littered my body felt incredible. He didn't stop moving, always eager to have the upper hand and the next move.

He was quickly on top of me and grinding down, his hips rocking against mine and hands pinching and rubbing every sensitive spot on my body. It was the most incredible feeling and I craved more. I craved more stimulation and pain. This wasn’t painful or complicated, but boring and too loving for a couple who had only just reunited. We had put the last years behind us and were new men. But that had led to Q sitting and tracing every tiny line and indentation on my milky skin. A few were new and had appeared from my ever-growing age but most were old and from various moments of my childhood I was eager to forget. But he sat there and made me go through all of them, from the burns on my thighs to the tattoo on my finger. It was like we were strangers on a random hook up.

We kissed again, open mouthed and hands exploring every forgotten inch of warm body. I was glad the act was gone and we could be honest with each other again. He was rough and nimble, and my pathetic accent had dissolved and my begs were in my thick Dublin drawl, something that I hadn't referred to in a long time.

He took my wrists and pinned them above my head so he could go down on me properly but all I wanted to do was grip his hair and guide him. I held the headboard and allowed him to slowly pull own my boxers, a gap coming from the back of his throat as he did so.

Now there’s inconvenient times for there to be a knock at your door, but having your ex-boyfriend holding you down and finger fucking you is defiantly one of them.

I turned to look at Q and he shrugged, pulling his fingers out and sucking on them, then going to the front door, putting one of the hotel’s dressing gowns as he did. That gave me just enough time to put on my trousers and Q’s t-shirt. M must have missed seeing me naked by seconds.

I kicked our other discarded clothes under the bed and looked at him. He raised his eyebrows at me and then turned back to Q.

“Do you wish to come and have dinner with me? Some of the other countries representatives here as well so it would be a good time to get talking to them. C, you would benefit from that.” He was dressed up in a fine Burberry suit and smelt of fig. He was pleasant, but nothing compared to Q who was getting a suit from his wardrobe.

“Save us a seat, M. We’ll be with you in ten minutes.” He nodded at my words and then left our room again. Q looked at me and began to laugh, then coming over and kissing me once again. His teeth dragged along my bottom lip and made me groan again, hands travelling down to the tie on his dressing gown that I gracefully undid and then pushed down his arms, letting it drop to the floor.

“Later, my darling. Be a good boy and wait.” He whispered into my ear and kissed my jaw, then going to put his suit on. I looked over at him and frowned, then going to have a wash and dress, ready for our meal. I knew Q would tease me but I had grown accustomed to it. I just hoped that my mental and physical barrier would be up so I could focus with the work in hand, and not his hands on my thighs. It would be hard but I had to cope. I didn't even know why I was letting him back into my life.

Maybe to break his heart like he broke mine.


End file.
